A Feral Snake
by Valasania the Pale
Summary: Snakes are well-known for their sly mannerisms, cunning, cool thinking, and silver tongues. What are often overlooked are those snakes which embrace their own feral sides to just have a little fun once in a while.
1. The Snake

_I never thought that sex was wrong, sinful, dirty. When you take away the thought of things being dirty or forbidden, then you can really enjoy your sensuality._

-Gioconda Belli

X_0_X

It was unfortunate that Harry's favorite workout studio had fallen on hard times. He'd spent months visiting the small and upcoming business that had appeared in Diagon Alley - to tangible and satisfying results – but it had suffered from the wizarding world's apathetic attitude towards exercise in general.

Quite a few of his classmates had started working out here, but had slowly drifted off as the stress of reconstruction after the war had lagged on. When word had gotten out that the store was started by a muggleborn wizard, the shattered fragments of the Blood Purity Movement had raided the studio, busting down walls and breaking equipment before aurors could arrive to chase them off.

Reflecting on this, Harry only felt a slight amount of annoyance at the dregs of society that had plagued him for so long. He himself was guilty of a certain amount of apathy towards the condition of the wizarding world.

He'd done his part, now everybody else could pitch in, and damn the consequences if he chose to enjoy himself for once.

So it was that Harry was surprised to see he was not alone in the shower block when he entered after his workout session. Normally the studio had two separate blocks for each gender, but the raid had apparently left the female block unusable.

A head of long auburn hair turned his way, deep chocolate eyes taking in his sweaty countenance before carelessly turning back to lean into the warm spray of water that filled the room with mist.

"What a surprise see you here Potter," Tracey Davis said, moving her angular features out of the stream to look back at him.

He could see only the upper portions of her chest and shoulders, her breasts hidden by the walled stall that separated each shower head. This nonetheless afforded Harry a pleasant view of her angular, pale neck and the distinct shape of her collarbone. As the warm water continued spraying out on her, he could see it bead and trickle down her smooth skin, and the licentious sight sent a flash of arousal through his body.

He began to disrobe, pointedly ignoring Tracy's roaming eyes as he stripped to nothing in front of her. "I come here often, Davis. The fighting might be done, but I can appreciate the benefits of staying fit," Harry told her, stepping into the stall adjacent to her and twisting the knob to start cleaning himself off.

"I can see that," Tracey informed him, reaching for the shampoo to begin washing her tangled, soaking locks of hair. "I never knew you were so chiseled Potter, it's enough to make a girl feel jealous of Granger."

Harry had already begun to rub himself down with a washcloth soaked with a pleasantly scented body wash. The feeling of accumulated sweat and filth sliding off his body was a relief to his senses. "I can't speak for Hermione, but I'd say she's pretty happy with the way things turned out," he told her, pleasant memories of happy escapes from weeks of stress when they'd been alone and on the run flashing through his mind.

Tracey snorted insolently. "That almost sounds like bragging Potter."

"It's only bragging if I can't back it up, Davis."

He knelt down to run the rag up and down his legs, before straightening up to return the soaked cloth to the hook. Reaching for his own shampoo, he noticed Tracey looking at him appraisingly as she ran her fingers through her hair to get the product out.

They washed in silence for a few moments, before Tracey finally spoke; "So what do you see in Granger then? Is it the whole bookworm persona she's got going on? The saying that 'Quiet ones are the most devious'?"

He chuckled, "Hermione's just been a good friend for so long. We've been close for such a long time that it was almost inevitable that we'd eventually get together, even if it isn't really official. She's too busy with the ministry to really worry about starting a serious relationship right now," he said.

Tracey digested this in silence, before he spoke again; "The long hair is a turn on, I've got to admit," he confessed.

Tracey looked at him in surprised, her dark eyebrows visibly rising as she took in this tidbit, "The oh-so-great Harry Potter, defeater of the Dark Lord and slayer of dark witches and wizards galore is turned on by long hair? Are you serious?" Tracey demanded incredulously.

"It gives me something to pull on. You have no idea how sexy it is to wrap a woman's hair around your wrist as your pleasure them, Davis," Harry told her, a mischievous look in his eye.

She couldn't help it; she threw her head back and cackled at his words, one hand going to her chest as she tried to catch her breath from the uncontrolled giggles that rippled through her body.

When she regained control of herself, she looked him in the eye, a curious glint flashing through her own as she smirked devilishly at him. "Who knew that Ickle Potter was such a sex-fiend?" She said a grin, "Although, you're not so ickle now, are you? I can think of a few of our year-mates who'd be pretty jealous of you," she informed him.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say Davis. Nice to know that you're a shameless pervert for peeking on me."

"I bet you'd do the same in my position Potter. I bet you'd stare so hard at me I'd feel it as it ran along my skin. Would you like to yank on my hair? It's all wet right now, but you'd probably manage," she verbally jabbed at him.

His own intense gaze caught her own, "Is that a challenge, Davis?"

Her smirk was all triumph, and Harry took the silent acknowledgement in stride; exiting his stall and sending a wandless locking charm at the door to the showers, before he entered Tracey's shower space.

Her hips were cocked to the side, emphasizing the sinuous curve of her waist. His eyes were drawn to the bare skin between her legs, his cock hardening as he noted she was smoothly shaven. The water ran down her body, tracing every inch of supple flesh as his gaze moved up to her chest, taking in her round, drenched breasts before finally returning to her eyes.

No words were exchanged. He strode forward engaged her in a passionate kiss, one hand going to the back of her neck as the other ran along her sides and down to her leg. He felt his rapidly hardening cock come into contact with her blazing hot lower lips, teasing her and causing Tracey to arch into his body, her smooth, toned stomach contacting his rock-solid abdominal muscles.

The force of their contact forced Tracey back until her shoulder blades contacted the back of the shower. As their kiss became more and more heated Harry moved his exploring hand underneath her thigh, just behind her knee, and pulled it up so that her leg had risen up to his hip.

Tracey, understanding his intentions, bent her leg so that it was wrapped around him, allowing for more contact between her drenched core and his straining member.

Tracey broke the kiss for a moment, panting hard; "I thought I asked you to yank on my hair," she said, her eyes rapidly darkening from chocolate brown into pits of black lust. "Fucking pull on my hair, Potter!"

Harry happily obliged her, wrapping her long locks around his wrist and giving it a firm tug, exposing her pale, defined neck and throat to his amorous ministrations. The room was soon filled with Tracey's shameless moans as Harry left red bite marks all over her neck, marring the beautiful skin he found.

"Who knew…" Tracey panted, "That the – _Fuck! –_ That the fucking golden boy of Hogwarts…" She groaned as he pressed his hips hard against hers, his member momentarily parting her lower lips, allowing her hypersensitive inner flesh to contact against his steel-like rod. "Was such a beast in the sack…Fuck me harder Potter, make me fucking scream!" she demanded, her hips needily shoving against his as he sucked against her throat.

He gave her hair a hard yank, making her snarl angrily at him. He abandoned the rapidly darkening bruise he'd left on her pulse point to nibble on her earlobe, whispering, "Kinky bitch wants it hard, does she?"

Tracey's hands, which had alternated between gripping his shoulders and leaving deep gouges in his back tangled in his hair, shoving his head up so that their lips once again came into contact in a searing dance of tongues. When they parted again, Tracey looked into his eyes, appearing feral as she harshly panted against his lips. "I want you to fucking take me right here and now, Potter. I want to feel you in me, and I want you to make me fucking come so hard I scream your name. I want you to – _Fuck!"_

Tracey was instantly silenced as he slammed his cock into her, parting her slick lower lips as he thrust rapidly between them. His fast, powerful thrusts momentarily stunned the auburn haired woman, before she finally caught her breath and began screaming obscenities at him once again as she squeezed his hips with her leg.

"So…Fucking big! Harder Potter! Damn it, make me – _fucking shit!_ – break me Potter!" Tracey moaned, her mouth completely free from Harry's lips as he returned to nibbling her ear.

"You've got a dirty mouth, Davis," Harry commented as he descended to begin leaving bruises on her shoulders and collarbone.

"I don't give a fuck – _Ah!_ – who's listening right now. If anybody gives a damn if I fucking cuss while I'm _– shit!_ – having sex, then they can fucking jack off alone!" Tracey growled, her head impacted the wall behind her as Harry hit a sweet spot in her.

Deciding to change things slightly, Harry untangled his hand from Tracey's hair - silencing her irritated growl by biting her collarbone – and lowered it to her chest, where it could squeeze the water-soaked flesh of her breast and tease her hardened pink nipples.

"I don't care," Harry told her honestly, before he took a long lick up the line of her throat. Tracey felt her core clench involuntarily as the action coincided with his pelvic bone brushing her clit, sending unbearable jolts of electricity up her spine as molten fire began pooling in her core. "I think it's rather hot," he finished bluntly.

Tracey laughed breathlessly, fighting to maintain her train of thought as she felt her inner walls begin to tighten as her pleasure mounted, "I guess I misjudged the perfect, shy," she sucked in breath as he gave a particularly harsh thrust, causing her eyes to clench shut, "Golden boy of Hogwarts. Do you _– fuck!_ – Do you fucking take Granger this hard? Is she as fucking tight as my pussy is?"

Harry grinned against her collarbone. _'Tracey sure loves bringing up Hermione. Does she feel like she's got something to prove?_ '

"I think you're just a little tighter than Hermione is; now, at least," He told her.

Tracey groaned, "Oh yeah? I bet she was tighter than sin before you – _Ah! –_ before you fucking loosened her up. Is that what you're going to do to me Potter? Fucking sculpt my pussy around your hard cock?" She asked him, her grin being lost on him as he buried his face into her throat, laving the vulnerable area with his tongue and teeth.

"I bet that's what you want, Davis. I bet you want me to fuck you so hard you can't walk out of here on your own," Harry told her, "I bet you get off on this Davis; a Gryffindor between your pretty spread legs, sawing into you and making you come on his cock."

"I haven't come yet Potter. Don't get ahead of yourself when you're bragging, or you might just be _– SHIT!_ "

Tracey came apart as he hit several sensitive areas at once. His member, which had been ramming against her cervix for the last few minutes, finally managed to pierce the barrier to enter her sensitive womb whilst his fingers drifted down to their connected sexes to harshly pinch her pointed clit. This happened as he also bit down against her throat – not hard enough to do true damage to her, but hard enough to trigger the adrenaline rush that comes from having such a vulnerable area attacked.

Tracey's orgasm was accompanied by her piercing screams of ecstasy. Her body thrashed in the throes of orgasm as he continued to thrust into her spasming core as it drenched his crotch in her warm, slick juices.

He could not prolong her pleasure forever though, and she eventually regained control of her shaking limbs as she came down from her high. Harry's thrusts had slowed down to allow her hypersensitive sex a chance to calm down, but this was evidently not favorable to the brunette Slytherin.

Her eyes, completely black and dilated, gazed into his own. "Don't you dare fucking slow down Potter. Don't you fucking dare – Not until I can't walk – not until I can feel you dripping down my thighs and out of my snatch. You're going to fuck me as hard as I want for as long as I want, and you are not going to slow down for one _fucking_ moment; you got it?!" she snarled at him as she arched her hips into his, demanding he continue to saw into her.

Harry's devilish grin was smothered when she crushed her lips back into his, their tongues dueling fiercely as he smashed through her beaten cervix to contact her womb, her inner flesh clenching insensately against his achingly hard cock as it desperately sought his thick, hot seed.

"You want me…" he broke away from the kiss, but was quickly drawn back in. "...To fill you with my seed, Davis?" She moaned wildly into his mouth, her breasts pressing against his pectorals and causing her to squirm as her sensitive nipples were drawn tantalizingly across the hard muscles.

"You want your tight little pussy to drown in it?" Harry demanded, nipping her lower lips and drawing it in his mouth to sooth the swollen flesh with his tongue.

Tracey moaned. "I want you to pump my tiny snatch so full of cum that it'll be dripping for weeks," she told him, before being forced to suck in a breath as he hit a rough patch of nerves in her core twice in rapid succession.

His thrusts began to grow more jerky as he approached his own climax. As if sensing the impending moment, Tracey's core began frantically clenching against Harry's invading rod, attempting to draw out his thick seed.

"Tracey, I'm coming," Harry told her, gritting his teeth as his orgasm ran at him full speed.

"Then fucking come in me you son of a bitch!" Tracey screamed as she was forced into another orgasm as Harry's thick white seed impacted against the quivering walls of her uterus, filling her womb with hot, slippery seed. Her inner walls clenched rhythmically against him, milking him and drawing out every drop they could manage. Tracey purred as she felt the liquid move and slosh within her, her belly growing warm as she released her own clear nectar.

They panted together under the stream of water, Tracey's face resting against the crook of his neck as he continued to thrust into her in short, slow strokes, the afterglow of their coupling sending pulses of warm bliss through their bodies.

Eventually, Harry withdrew from her swollen core. Tracey allowed a disappointed groan to escape her as she felt a void in her from the loss. True to his word, Harry's thick, white seed began to slowly trickle out from between her lower lips. The sensation was intensely arousing to Tracey, and she made no move to stop it as she lowered herself to the floor to rest her head against the wall.

She looked at Harry, who was watching her carefully from where he sat, leaned against the opposite wall. Deciding to go with her gut, Tracey smiled beatifically at him, her eyes still dilated and dazed from the insane bout of sex she'd been through. "So, Potter. Am I better than Granger?" She asked him.

Harry snorted, "I'm not stupid enough to answer that Davis."

Pushing herself towards him, she climbed into his lap to press herself against him. "Good answer," she said, their lips engaging in a passionate kiss as he wrapped his arms around her, their bodies coming together in a feral embrace once more.

X_0_X

 **My apologies, for those of you who had expected another installment of 'I Walk the Path of the Seductress.' While I do have that story essentially planned out, it just hasn't wanted to be written, and I've been lazy for the last month and a half. I'll be working on the next chapter right after this goes up, so hopefully you will all have something to read while I'm in Japan for the next week ^.^**

 **Let me know if you'd like to see another chapter to this installment. While I was writing it I alluded to Harry and Hermione often, and I don't believe there is a single Tracey/Hermione story on fanfiction at this time.**

 **Farewell, dear readers, and have a Merry Afterglow.**

 **-Valasania the Pale**


	2. The Rival

**Harry Potter does not belong to me. Check! I don't make money off of this. Check! Already obvious fact statement for legal reasons, check!**

X_0_X

 _Our obsession with speed, with cramming more and more into every minute, means that we race through life instead of actually living it. Our health, diet and relationships suffer. We make mistakes at work. We struggle to relax, to enjoy the moment, even to get a decent night's sleep._

-Carl Honore

X_0_X

Throughout her life, Tracey had experienced plenty of trials.

Being a half-blooded Slytherin had ensured she would be hated by the majority of her green-and-silver-clad peers, and ignored by those who would otherwise befriend her in the other houses. Her declining family meant that she could never expect to be set up in a favorable marriage – not that there were that many free candidates available anyways – and she was not at the top of her class nor had any special skills to make a name for herself.

Tracey was average, and in a world determined to curtail her kind from the crop, she had to be clever to make it to adulthood.

She was also obsessed with Hermione Granger.

It had begun as simple envy. The Gryffindor brunette seemed to have everything set out for her from day one; a house that would accept her blood-status, incredible intelligence, drive, and powerful friends from old and respected families.

She was everything that Tracey wasn't, and the Slytherin cherished every victory she could attain over the bookish girl, even if they never exchanged more than a few words over their years in Hogwarts.

Over time, those victories diminished. While they were younger, Tracey had been far prettier than Hermione, who contended with her hair and teeth and abrasive personality on a daily basis. Now that they had reached adulthood however, that had changed, and the brunette had become, if not a knockout like Daphne Greengrass or Su Li, then still certainly beautiful.

The Gryffindor had quickly risen to the top tier of the ministry during reconstruction, and had a hand in almost every administrative action taken in Magical Britain in the post-war era they lived in. Tracey had captured the lead position in the economic recovery and management division, so she certainly wasn't bad off, but she knew that she still couldn't compare.

The auburn haired woman had long since moved past simple jealousy; it was a childish vice that had strangled what could have been an interesting friendship while she was younger. Of all of her year mates, Hermione had been possible the only person she could have an honest, friendly rivalry with during their school years.

The bookworm, while wary of the house, had none of the prejudice against Slytherins that most Gryffindors seemed to assimilate from an early stage. She wasn't annoyingly friendly like the Hufflepuffs, nor was she as aloof as the Ravenclaws, and she wasn't as infuriatingly distant as her fellow Slytherins had been in their constant politicking.

She also wasn't as vapid as the other Gryffindor girls. Tracey had honestly considered hitting them with a tripping hex as they walked down one of the staircases just to shut them up before.

But no, she had squandered that for a one-sided rivalry that she soon realized she'd never win. The Slytherin had competed in silence, cherishing every victory and berating herself for every defeat.

It was an obsession, and probably not a healthy one. Tracey was honest enough with herself to realize that, but it had its own addicting qualities. If she stopped focusing on Hermione Granger, who would she measure herself by? How could she feel accomplishment if she didn't have a rival to surpass?

And yet despite maturing logic telling her to let the old habit go, Tracey found herself once again sucked into her competitive mindset.

Having sex with Harry Potter – of all the random things to happen to her when she'd gone to the gym that day a week ago – had reignited the inner fire which had driven her against Hermione Granger all these years. Or, rather, it had been the commentary they'd exchanged about the Gryffindor boy's not-so-secret trysts with the brunette bookworm.

He'd steadfastly refused to compare either of the women's sexual abilities – Tracey admired his intelligence on that part – but had let slip some interesting tidbits about previous sexual encounters with his longtime friend.

There was his deep appreciation for pulling on long hair. It was something that Tracey imagined would be rather easy given that Granger had long possessed one of the most impressive manes she'd ever encountered, even if it had straightened out in recent years.

What piqued her interest though had come out when, in a fit of passion, she'd tried to pin him down to ride him like a stallion. He'd quickly reversed the role, and had taunted her with images of Hermione Granger – of all people – trying the exact same stunt to the exact same result.

Picturing her lifelong rival in the same position, being ravished by the same man in the same manner had - curiously - made her blood boil.

Not in anger – Tracey had honestly been beyond emotions besides the furious thrum of primal lust by that point – but searing heat that accompanied a ravaging hunger. She'd been utterly sated by her encounter with the Boy-who-lived; to the extent that she'd been left a purring puddle of endorphins when they'd finished; but days later that same heat continued to punish her as she pictured herself, and not Harry, above the brunette, pinning _her_ arms above _her_ head while she left possessive bruises and bite marks all over her throat.

It had begun to have an unhealthy effect on her temper. She was volatile by nature; it was a trait passed down to her by her mother; but recently she'd begun to have trouble finding release. Her own hands weren't enough for her anymore, and she craved the salty taste of flushed skin; to feel a writhing, curvy body beneath her own; to savor the sweet taste of another's nectar.

Well, not just _anyone's._ Tracey had a particular person in mind.

Thus, she was currently passing a number of ministry workers on her way to the administrative sector of the newly-restored Ministry of Magic.

There were few people in the department. Most were out and about, working on tasks which took them out of the office in the absence of minor workers to delegate to. This worked in Tracey's favor; Hermione had long since risen to a position where she didn't need to go bustling around the ministry like a hyped-up pygmy puff. Her skills were much better favored in research in a static position.

Thus, she was stationary. Tracey knocked on the door to her office.

It was soon answered by the brains of the Golden Trio herself, looking distracted and flustered as she welcomed Tracey into her cluttered office.

Would she like some tea? How was her work in the economics division? Had there been an error that was causing issues? What was the date, perchance?

Tracey was personally amazed at the sheer volume of questions directed at her, although she had to resist the urge to sigh from exasperation towards the end.

 _Scholars._

She did frown when Hermione, who had not waited for an answer to any of her questions, finished taking a breath that _should not have been sufficient for that much talking_ and began the torrential interrogation once again.

While the brunette was distracted with her papers, Tracey rolled her eyes, crossed over to the other side of the desk, and yanked the girl up out of her seat and smashed her lips against the over-stressed woman's own chapped pair.

She did not relent when she felt Hermione stiffen against her, not responding to the demanding press against her mouth. In fact, Tracey continued applying force to the woman's body, until she was shoved harshly against a wall, where she continued to feverishly press her body against the stunned brunette.

As the brown-haired girl began to regain her senses and squirmed against her, Tracey parted her lips so that her tongue could take a swipe at the Gryffindor's lips, moistening them and causing Hermione to inhale sharply.

Tracey's hand drifted up from where it had settled around Hermione's waist to run along the whole of the brunette's breast, seeking her nipple and giving it a swift pinch when it located the sensitive area. The shock of pleasure ripped a moan out of Hermione, and Tracey capitalized by slipping her tongue into the brunette's mouth to begin a one-sided duel with its slowly responding counterpart.

She resisted the urge to growl and begin tearing Hermione's clothes off, frustrated with how slowly the bookworm was responding to her advances. She wasn't here to ravish the woman yet; this was her bait to lure in and trap the woman who had for once assumed a spot below her on the predator scale.

The Slytherin pulled away shortly after Hermione finally shook off the rest of her daze and began reciprocating the kiss with determined fervor. Whatever shock had taken the brunette had fallen away and the stress of essentially running a country melted as she allowed herself a moment of heated release.

Her action made the brunette mewl disappointedly, but Tracey had yet to finish; placing open mouthed kisses along Hermione's pulse point. As she began to introduce small love bites to her ministrations the bookworm began to pant, her hands gripping the back of Tracey's robes and the nape of her neck.

Tracey imprinted her grin against Hermione's neck as she located her desired spot, and then began to harshly suck on the area, periodically laving it with her tongue and teeth to leave the skin dark and obvious to anybody who spared the object of her affections a second glance.

When she pulled away, there was a purple bruise just underneath Hermione's jaw, right on her pulse point. The brunette, perceiving that Tracey had finished, stared at her with confused but obviously aroused eyes, panting and obviously flushed.

Tracey grinned, ' _success.'_

"Davis," Hermione said, finally. "What the fuck brought that on?"

Filing away the brunette's uncharacteristic curse, Tracey responded to the valid question. "Well Granger, you've got to have been stressed, and you were talking too much there. I prefer kissing to questions," she said brazenly.

"I never saw you making out with Snape, and he asked Slytherins just as many questions as the Gryffindors."

"…"

Following that train of thought led to places which sent unpleasant shudders through Tracey. She deflected the conversation back on point; "You liked it."

Hermione's blush darkened, but she didn't deny it.

"So," Tracey continued, "I don't really want to fuck someone who's not showered for a week," Hermione went scarlet; from the thought of them together or from embarrassment at being so unclean Tracey did not know, "so if you go and clean up, I'll be in my office for the next hour. _Alone._ "

With that, Tracey stepped back and away from the brown-haired woman, straightened her robes from where they'd become ruffled, and walked out the door.

X_0_X

In her office, the auburn-haired Slytherin began to have doubts after the twenty-minute mark had passed. Had she come on too strong? Despite her house's preference for cunning, she was often less than subtle, and more apt to take the brazen approach to getting people to do what she wanted.

It required her to know how people would react beforehand so that she could plan out how encounters with other people would play out, but people often trusted the upfront party more than one guaranteed to have some secret agenda.

She got right down to business, and being stuck waiting for somebody she didn't know would turn up was torture for her.

A knock. Another. Tracey grinned, relief suffusing her for a brief moment before she shoved it aside; _'Fun time!'_

"Come in."

The Slytherin was out of sight of the door, hidden so that she could take her new guest by surprise. The brunette walked in, quickly shutting the door behind her.

Hermione's robe was obviously more comfortable than before, looking almost like a bathrobe, but was close enough to a day-robe to not draw attention to herself in the busy ministry. Her long brown hair was sleek and shiny, still wet from a shower, while her skin was tinged pink and looked soft and delicious to Tracey's roaming eyes.

She moved. The bookworm only had a second to react before she was once again thrown off balance as Tracey shoved her backwards. The two women once again engaged in a heated clash of tongues; this time with each party competing for dominance.

When Hermione's back finally made contact with Tracey's desk, the Slytherin continued applying pressure, bowing Hermione's back over it until she was stretched out and Tracey was essentially straddling her.

Tracey smirked arrogantly as she captured the brunette's wrist with one hand, the other performing a quick motion with her wand that summoned a silk ribbon. Another flick of the wand and the silk wrapped around Hermione's wrist and stuck to the desk, trapping Hermione's arm above her head.

Tracey repeated the motion with the other wrist, and with her work completed eyed her prize appreciatively.

Hermione was irritated. "Davis, let me go!"

Tracey snorted, and knelt to take one of Hermione's feet in her hands, slipping the shoe and long sock off, revealing a pale, dainty foot. She removed the other shoe and sock, leaving Hermione's feet bare and hanging just above the ground.

Tracey's voice echoed throughout the room, "I don't think I will, Granger. Right now, you're my little plaything," there was more than a little satisfaction in her voice, "and I am going to take full advantage of every nook and cranny of your tasty little body while I have the chance."

She took a hold of the knot in the Gryffindor's robe, easily undoing it and parting the dark robe. Bare tracts of naked, supple skin graced her eyes; Hermione had worn nothing under the robe. There was very little muscle to be had; two years of little exercise would have degraded what was once undoubtedly muscle into softer, fattier curves. Hermione was by no means overweight, but she certainly wouldn't be taking awards for physical fitness either.

Tracey's gaze moved up to Hermione's breasts, which were not huge but were large enough to be a handful. She licked her lips as she took in both of her pink, pointed nipples straining out into the cool air. Above them was a defined collarbone and the woman's elegant neck; Tracey's hickey still stood out like a beacon.

Tracey retrieved her wand one final time, tapping it against her own clothing and vanishing it with nary a thought.

Wanting to start the action, she stepped between the brunette's legs, leaning over her as she had earlier with their kiss. Their bare stomachs came into contact first; hot, smooth skin moving against smooth, burning skin and sending Tracey's body alight with desire. Their breasts pressed together as she rested her weight on top of the bookworm, both of them coming face-to-face with each other to stare into the other's eyes.

Their contest didn't last long. Hermione broke first, having been fiercely aroused for the better part of half an hour with no release; "Davis, are you going to kiss me or-"

Tracey's lips crashed into Hermione's once again, one of her arms coming up to support the brunette's head as the other moved up and down her side, tracing the hot flesh with her cool, clever fingers.

When they had to part for breath, Tracey began to whisper softly into the crook of Hermione's neck, their meaning too quiet to be understood but the wisps of air tickling her making Hermione squirm. The whispers transitioned into butterfly kisses that made their way down Hermione's neck and past her collarbone. Tracey detoured over the brunette's breast, taking care to avoid her nipple and making the bound woman pull against her restraints futilely.

"Davis, hurry up!"

The Slytherin rolled her eyes. Impatient Gryffindors. Even Harry had skipped the foreplay in favor of simply fucking her brains out.

"Granger, there is a fine art to sex that I imagine escapes you," Tracey began. "In fact," she placed a short kiss just above Hermione's mons. "If I didn't know that Potter has been fucking you for years now, I might have mistaken you for inexperienced."

Tracey couldn't see her face, but if the wiggling of her hips was anything to go by, Hermione was trying to sit up to properly express her outrage. "How the hell did you know that Harry and I were- EEP!"

Perhaps Tracey preferred Harry's no-nonsense take to sex. Just a little. Turnabout is fair play though, so she felt rather justified in shutting the Gryffindor up; especially since she really was as delicious as Tracey had fantasized.

She began by taking long, luxurious licks along Hermione's out labia, putting just enough pressure on the inside to part them _just_ enough to make the brunette moan desperately. Tracey held her hips still to prevent her from bucking against her as she began to dart her tongue in and out between Hermione's lips, going just a little deeper with every pass.

"D-Davis! Ju-aahhhh! Just do it already!" Hermione screamed, her chest arching upwards as she impotently struggled against her restraints. Her hands clenched and unclenched as searing heat shot through her body like a bolt of sizzling lightning.

Tracey pulled away; "You know, you're just as delicious as Potter said you were. Sweet, but not like sugar," she told the struggling woman. She ducked in to take a long, drawn out lap of her swollen lower lips. "Like vanilla, really."

"Harry wouldn't tell you something like that!"

Tracey smiled as she leaned in, taking a deep whiff of potent musk, her eyelids fluttering closed as the powerful scent made her core flutter. "Oh, you'd be surprised Granger. Potter was _very_ willing to tell me _all_ about you two. I certainly wasn't complaining at the time; it's hard to when he's filling you with that huge rod of his, isn't it?"

The brunette emitted a strangled gasp, "You had sex with Harry? How? When?"

Tracey began to examine the inside of Hermione's legs, leaving small bites along the smooth unblemished flesh she found. "I did, Granger. Many, many times. So much, in fact, that I was still leaking his seed two days afterwards," she told her.

Apparently the image conjured up by Tracey's words was enough to earn an extreme reaction from the brunette, because two long legs instantly trapped Tracey's head between them as Hermione's body arched beautifully away from the table.

"Oh, you like that Granger? You like the thought of Harry's hot seed flowing out of my sweet little snatch?" Tracey returned to her ministrations against Hermione's own core, plunging her tongue in and out of the brunette.

Hermione's low groan signaled that yes; she did.

"You like," Tracey panted against the woman's clit, the hot breath sending tingles of sensation up the line of Hermione's spine, "imagining me up against a wall," the Slytherin took the bundle of nerves between her lips, "with Harry's big," Hermione wailed, " _hard_ ," she sucked harshly, "cock," Tracey dragged the entire length of her tongue up Hermione's clit, triggering the brunette's explosive orgasm, "thrusting in and out of me?"

Hermione was unable to answer, so consumed by the agonizing pulses of bliss that ravaged her body and left her helplessly bucking her hips against Tracey's face as she coated it with a glistening wave of her juices.

Tracey languidly dragged herself up Hermione's body once again, paying no mind to the random spasms that continued to afflict the trembling woman. As they came face to face, Tracey saw that Hermione's eyes had gained a glazed appearance, and she smirked.

"You got me all messy, Granger," Tracey whispered softly, her breath smelling sweet from her recent meal, "Clean me up."

As Hermione leaned in to begin lapping at the clear sheen that covered Tracey's face, the auburn-haired woman reached up to begin untying the brunette from the desk. A few swift movements later and the silk restraints were loose enough for Hermione to pull her arms out from their imprisonment.

Without the bindings holding Hermione up, the pair let gravity pull them to the ground, where they rolled along the floor, arms and legs tangling together as they eagerly ground against each other.

Eventually Tracey stopped their motion, straddling Hermione and continuing to smirk at the dazed Gryffindor from above. She once again grabbed the woman's wrists, pinning them above her head and leaving her immobile.

"You have soft skin, Granger," Tracey told her as she began to grind her hot nether-lips against the brunette's smooth stomach, leaving them streaked with her leaking fluids.

The contact ignited an inferno within her, as the slick, hot friction made the knot of molten fire deep within her core grow and strain. Tiny beads of sweat appeared on her forehead and around her temples, making her mussed-up hair damp.

"H-how did you convince Harry to have sex with you?" Hermione gasped, Tracey's weight driving the breath out of her as the woman used her recovering body for her own pleasure.

"I asked, Granger," Tracey told her sweetly, "You see, Potter and I were having a nice conversation and suddenly he starts talking about pulling on your hair," Hermione blanched, "and then I find out that the Boy-who-lived is secretly a beast in the sack, and that you've been keeping him all to yourself;" Tracey's voice darkened to match her lust-blackened eyes, "Naughty little witch."

She felt her core begin to flutter with the first throes of her own orgasm, so Tracey threw herself into it, frantically dragging her sensitive, swollen lips up Hermione's slippery stomach, trying to push herself over the cliff.

Her low, quiet panting ceased and she yelped when she felt pair of nimble fingers suddenly pinch her clit. The Slytherin froze entirely for a second, stunned that the Gryffindor would have the audacity to take some initiative in their tryst, before her face twisted in a feral snarl as she ferociously resumed her grinding, accompanied by the helpful ministrations of Hermione's fingers. The callouses, gained from decades of handling books of all shapes and sizes, felt divine against the hypersensitive bundle of nerves, and soon Tracey was thrown into violent convulsions as her orgasm washed over her, igniting every nerve ending in her body with lances of ecstasy.

Hermione pushed her advantage, rolling them so that she was on top and plunging three fingers into the Slytherin's desperately grasping core, where they were seized and massaged by her frantically pulsing walls. Tracey's voice, high on pleasure, rang out through the air, filling it with sinful depravities as she rode her orgasm.

As she came down, Hermione slowed her ministrations, slowly and gently stroking the rough spot of nerves within Tracey's center that made her stomach quiver and her arms want to give out. Tracey, however, only felt her lust spike as heat began to pool within her as soon as she was able to operate her limbs properly.

In seconds, Hermione was on her hands and knees with Tracey above her. The auburn-haired woman used one arm to seize one of Hermione's breasts, teasingly circling the achingly-hard nipple, while the other went to Hermione's core. The brunette, with her arms supporting her weight, was helpless under the assault, and her wanton cries of pleasure filled the room as Tracey relentlessly attacked every sensitive region she could reach.

"Hey Granger," Tracey said, her voice sultry low, "Do you like that I just came all over your stomach? Did you _love_ it when I made you come all over my pretty little face? I bet you like licking it all up, at least."

"T-Tracy…I – Ah! I want t-to c-come…!" Hermione gasped out, bucking erratically into Tracey's stroking hand.

"I bet you do. You're going to come all over my hand, and then I'm going to let you lick it off my fingers," Tracey purred, "Or, I have a better idea!"

Tracey again shifted the woman below her, who wailed in frustration as Tracey's hand left her frantic center. Within seconds, Tracey's own dripping core hovered over the brunette's mouth, and she stared at the soft, swollen lower lips of the Gryffindor below her.

"Don't go slow on me, Granger; I want it as hard as you – shit!" Tracey was cut off as Hermione latched onto her core, her tongue darted in and out between the Slytherin's labia as she sampled her taste. With a delighted moan, the brunette fully dove into the auburn-haired woman's center, and Tracey was left almost unable to focus on her own task.

Almost, of course. Tracey return just as much as she got, and soon she felt the brunette's already stimulated core begin to clench randomly around her probing tongue. Tracey almost felt the thrill of victory, but just as suddenly as she triggered the brunette's orgasm once again she felt lips latch around her hypersensitive clit and give a hard suck, instantly shattering her focus.

The two women convulsed together, their involuntary cries mixing together in a chorus worthy of a choir of succubae.

As they lay together in the afterglow, each thoroughly spent from their activities, the silence grew thick. Each waited for the other to say something.

As usual, Slytherin patience won out. "Tracey."

"Yeah, Granger?"

"Harry and I and a couple of our friends are having a get-together in a week, do you want to join us?"

Tracey thought for a moment, considering how this would fit in with her standing against Hermione.

Tracey blinked, and pulled the brunette closer, nestling her head in the crook of her neck. Hermione sighed contentedly and curled closer to her. "That sounds like fun, Granger."

"Hermione. Call me Hermione."

"That sounds great…Hermione."

Fuck rivalries. Friendships are more enjoyable.

X_0_X

 **Right! So while very few people reviewed, many did follow this story, which I took to be encouragement for the Hermione/Tracey pairing. So, as of right now, I do believe this is the only occurrence of this pairing...at all. Personal challenge to everyone out there, try it out! It's an interesting dynamic, and I had fun writing it.**

 **At any rate, I'll most likely be working on Seductress next. Half of the next chapter is already done - and as I write these as 'context for the sex, then sex', that basically means I've got the difficult part done with.**

 **Farewell everyone, and have a merry afterglow!**

 **-Valasania the Pale**


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